Blue Pagoda Agency

an agency in Sleuth - the online Detective Role Playing Game

MEET OUR DETECTIVES

Detective Lady Jas:

Mama said she was a ‘dancer’.

And if we’d travelled in polite circles, I might have known that what she did was called burlesque, but hell, we didn’t travel in no ‘po-lite circles’, so I only ever heard it called “the hooch”.

To give Mama her due, she was damn good at what she did. The men who came to see her flaunt her ample charms never went away disappointed. She always left them with their jowls slathering and their trousers stretched to the point of no return; always wanting more... always wanting Mama.

I don’t suppose, looking back, I really understood most of what went on. I was as much boy as girl; shapeless and sexless; unconcerned as I was by buttons and bows. Scuttering between the rows of shuffling, restless men, picking up the coins they tossed at Mama, and the clothes Mama tossed at them, was just a game to a scrap of a child.

But all games come to an end.

Perhaps Mama saw the writing on the wall; perhaps she saw those restless men turning their attentions to something prettier and younger. Whatever it was, one day I was sitting on the steps outside our ramshackle little house, waiting for Mama to finish with one of her ‘special clients’, and the next I was sitting on a train bound for Missouri to go live with a Grandmother I hadn’t even known existed.

I cannot say I shed a tear when Mama put me on that train. Besides she always cried for both of us. Too overcome for words, she kissed me quickly and pushed a slender package into my hands, before turning away into the waiting arms of one of my many ‘uncles’.

(I took a seat away from the windows to avoid the scene Mama was no doubt making)

So with a suitcase full of clothes I had never worn (Mama had decided to splurge on me), with a ticket to a place I had never been, to go live with a woman I had never met, I wondered what strange feeling this was welling up inside of me. I thought perhaps that it was finally sorrow taking it’s hold. But I was wrong... it was relief.

When I got to unwrapping Mama’s parting gift, I found the strangest legacy of all. For what I thought might be a doll, or a ribbon or comb, was not.

No, Mama had gifted me with a stiletto.

To the surprise of the weathered Nun that sat across from me, I held that long thin blade up to the light and smiled. That old girl must’ve seen something in that smile - same thing I s’pose some people see today - because she crossed herself mighty quick and was countin’ on her Rosary beads for the rest of that long train ride.

Needless to say that was only the beginnings of my adventures. That moment was not the making of me. Nor, I admit, am I complete. But it ‘was’ a start. I am no romantic, but how many can say their story started with 'light flickering on a silver blade'?

I may come to tell you the rest of my story. I may not.

All you need to know for now... is that I still carry that stiletto.

 


Detective Lady Zeugirdor:

Sometimes you block out your childhood, only trying to remember the good times. One thing I remember is Mama telling me to always be a “lady”. She tried to teach me to be polite, dignified, know when to speak or hold my piece, to be engaging with company and make them comfortable. How to be powerful, yet demure. It was also one of the last things she told me.

That day is one a child should forget, yes but I wasn’t a child after that day ended. Mama had been blissful for the past months. She said that she was going to be married. Then we would really be “ladies”. I was 9 years old and maybe didn’t really understand or even care. I was interested in the new clothes and presents given me by Mama’s “suitor”.

He was a handsome man, richly dressed, charming, and witty. He was the type of man everyone loved. That is the irony… everyone did love him or maybe it’s better said he loved everyone, as long as he could get what he wanted from them. I didn’t understand what he wanted from Mama, but he must have gotten it.

Their wedding was the next day and Mama and I were making the final preparations for where I would stay during their honeymoon. The doorbell rang in our small, but nicely furnished home. Mama sent me to answer the summons. I opened it to see him. He asked to see Mama, just for a few minutes for he knew we were busy.

He followed me to Mama’s room. She was surprised and pleased to see him. She then sent me to make sure my bags were packed . It was a few minutes later that I returned to her room to see what was to be done next. I opened the door to see Mama lying on the floor.

As I ran to her my senses were assaulted by the sight and smell of blood. It was everywhere. Even on her wedding dress which hung by her bed. I saw the knife in her chest. The sight imprinted forever on my mind. In terror I tried to help, but she stilled my hands and spoke, “Darling, never trust anyone and remember…to always be a Lady.” At that her grip weakened, her eyes closed, and she didn’t speak again.

I looked for him, but he had left. The police didn’t believe my account and ruled it a suicide. That’s fine; I continue to look for him. One day I will find him…and I will remember not to trust him and to be… a Lady.

Detective Oscar Meyer:

I've always been akward and clumsy. At least, until my Uncle moved in with us. I never understood why he was there, but he was family. He was one of those people who makes wherever he is at come to life and was genuinly interested in people. Of course he was popular and invited everywhere, unlike me. Unlike others, my habits were completely overlooked by my Uncle.
He would take me with him to parties and events. I was always amazed at his calm, coolness around people and especially the ladies. One wouldn't look at me twice, but him they threw themselves at constantly. I began to study him. I wanted to be what he was and have that confidence.
Unfortunately, after a party one evening he didn't come home. He was missing for three months. Then the police pulled his body out of the river, promptly labelling suicide to the cause of death. I knew better. He wasn't the type. How would I know? I was the type. Instead of sulking about, as my mother put it, I went to the Tricky Mister shortly after the funeral.
I wasn't at the bar long when I noticed a beautiful women standing with her back to the wall. I decided in his honor I would be as sociable as he had been. Nervous as I'd ever been I approached her. She spoke first and next thing I knew we were sitting in a booth talking and laughing. Then she mentioned her father's passing. I asked how it happened and when.
A little over three months ago he disappeared after leaving a party, they had pulled him out of the river this morning she told me. Imagine my shock. It was the same party my Uncle had been attending. She said she had some leads about the people from City Hall. In realising what we were saying, we decided to go somewhere else to talk.
As we hailed a cab I realized I'd left my coat inside. I ran in to get it and when I returned she was gone. The cabby said another car drove up, four men got out and took her. It was a dark car and no plates and he didn't get a look at the faces.
Apparently there was more going on than suicides in this city. Would she become the next body pulled out of the river? Maybe I would be the next missing person. Time wasn't on my side, but I had to unravel this mess.

 

Detective Sammy Spade:

It's been said the best place to hide something is in plain sight.
I walked down the crowded city sidewalk with a well-dressed gentleman, laughing and nodding at all the correct places. My eyes continually watching for my target to appear. I spotted him three blocks from the theater we were heading towards.
Nonchalantly I manuvered my "friend" towards my target. Several steps away from him I brushed my hand over my hair, retriving a small needle. Then I looked towards my date and asked a question. At the moment he answered I accidently bumped into my target. I placed my gloved hands around his upper arm and apologized for my inconsiderate manners. He smiled and said there was no harm done. My date and I smiled, nodded and moved on our way.
As we were about to enter into the theater I glanced back down the sidewalk. I saw my target stop walking, clutch his chest, and fall to the ground. I glanced up at my date and smiled. We were shown to our seats and the lights dimmed in the theater. I smiled as I thought how I just killed the last of the six men who murdered my family when I was still a child. And I hid myself in plain sight.

Detective LauraVo:

Let me see you shake a tail feather!

Detective Sunniva:

What!?! So I'm a drunk!

Detective Honey Op:

I've got it in spades!

Detective Sir Gar:

So, you want to know about me?
What for?
Are you a busy body with nothing better to do?

Here's what you NEED to know in a nutshell. They call me Sir Gar. I'm a detective. I don't like thugs and don't really care for dames all that much. Both get you into trouble, whether you're looking or not. If you fall under one of those categories.....stay out of my way.

So far I've found a few dames who don't fit the same mold as ones like my mother. Those would be Lady Jas and Lady Zeugirdor. The others seem alright too, but I wonder about Oscar Meyer sometimes. That's why I joined forces with them at The Blue Pagoda.

Any more questions?

Detective J Sandford:

Detective Bio:

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Detective Kyana:

Detective Bio:

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Detective Rufus2006:

Detective Bio:

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Detective kymkatt32:

Detective Bio:

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Detective Dt Jusma:

Detective Bio:

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